


In The Morning

by therjolras



Series: For My Friends [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, cuddle-buggers, fluff for friends, morning rituals (and unexpected surprises), pick-me-ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:51:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therjolras/pseuds/therjolras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac isn't expecting Jean to need This sort of pick-me-up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffdrabble for a friend who had a long day and needed a pick-me-up of her own. I don't ship Jean/Courf (in fact, I have exactly four truly romantic OTPs and all but one of them are canonically confirmed), but this could be platonic or romantic depending whether or not you ship it and whether or not you, like me, consider both Courf and Jean Prouvaire complete cuddlebuggers.

Waking up with another body curled up into yours, snuggled up against your chest so that you can feel them breathe, their body heat mingling with yours… that is one of the most beautiful feelings in the world. 

Jean shifted in his sleep, his curly hair tickling Courf in the nose as his head burrowed deeper into the pillow and his body snuggled closer to Courf’s. Courf blew the loops of auburn-bronze away and peeled the covers off, taking great care not to disturb the smaller man. Neither of them were very tetchy about personal space, it had turned out when they started sharing a flat, and after Courf seeking company after a few bad break-ups and Jean seeking solace just because, they’d decided sharing body heat was a brilliant idea and just went with it.

Courf dressed while coffee brewed, and when it was ready he brought a mug to Jean— who, apparently, had just woken up and was rubbing his eyes like a five-year-old. Courfeyrac wondered sometimes, how he managed to look so innocent. He tapped Jean’s shoulder, and he looked up; seeing Courf, he smiled and mumbled a “morning”; seeing the mug of coffee, he shook his head. “Need something stronger.”

"I can’t exactly spike it," Courfeyrac said. "You’re driving to school."

"No, not like that," Prouvaire mumbled, then motioned for Courfeyrac to come closer. He set down both his mug and Jean’s on the end table before leaning closer; no sooner had he done so, though, than Jean had seized him by the collar and kissed him thoroughly. Courfeyrac, too startled to do anything else, kissed back. 

Prouvaire drew away then, shook his head once, and smiled: a wide-awake smile. “Perfect, thank you.”

"Come here and do that again," Courfeyrac said. "I could use a hit."


End file.
